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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27799933">the nourishment of Yuuri Katsuki-Nikiforov</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/gaykagome/pseuds/gaykagome'>gaykagome</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Blood and Gore, Blood and Violence, Body Horror, Cannibalism, Comedy, Dark Comedy, Death, Domestic Bliss, Domestic Fluff, Gore, Happy Ending, Healthy Relationships, Horror, Lots of body gore seriously do not read if you don't like blood or gore or violence, M/M, Married Life, Morally Grey, No Homophobia, PLATONIC OTAYURI, Post-Canon, Retirement, Santa Clarita Diet AU, Viktor as Joel, Viktor is a ride or die husband, Violence, Vomiting, Yuri Plisetsky Is a Katsuki Yuuri Fan, Zombie, it's not technically cannibalism if yuuri is a zombie, otabek is sort of eric but its platonic, santa clarita diet - Freeform, sheila is yuuri, still wholesome somehow, viktor is ride or die, you know besides the murder, yuri is abby, yuri is viktor and yuuri's adopted son</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 15:42:23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,716</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27799933</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/gaykagome/pseuds/gaykagome</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Retirement life for the married Katsuki-Nikiforovs is bliss: except for when Yuuri inexplicably dies, comes back to life, and must eat people to live. They decide to roll with it. Ride or die means ride or die. Post-Canon. Santa Clarita Diet AU.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Katsuki Yuuri &amp; Victor Nikiforov &amp; Yuri Plisetsky, Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, Mila Babicheva/Sara Crispino, Otabek Altin &amp; Yuri Plisetsky</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>the nourishment of Yuuri Katsuki-Nikiforov</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This draft has been sitting on my laptop for like 6 months, then they dropped the ICE Adolescence trailer and my YOI brainworms started firing again. Thank you to tumblr user @lesdienne for fielding my mindless headcanons about this for the past 6 months and feeding the brainworms! </p><p>I feel very strongly that Yuuri is Sheila, Viktor is Joel, Yurio is Abby (roughly. He's also kind of Eric, but Otabek is also kind of Eric. Brotayuri strictly). Yurio is their adopted child even though he's like 18 don't think about it too much. </p><p>I haven't rewatched YOI in a long time so expect inconsistencies in my knowledge about figure skating or any sports in general. This is purely domestic viktuuri in wacky sitcom scenarios involving murder (but like, in a fun way). I promise not to murder any beloved main characters (well. idk maybe one), most of the victims will be OCs I make up because I like all the YOI characters too much.</p><p>Santa Clarita Diet was cancelled wrongfully by Netflix, so we don't know how it ends, but this story will have a happy ending. Well, Viktuuri and Yurio will anyway.</p><p>Massive trigger warnings for: vomit, blood, violence, murder, gore, eating people. Nothing grosser than what's on the show Santa Clarita Diet, but too be fair that's a, uhhhhhhh, high bar. Viktor briefly mourns in chapter 1 but it's very very quick.</p><p>Find me on tumblr @gaykagome</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The alarm wouldn’t blare until 9 am, but after a lifetime of rising before dawn for practice, Viktor Katsuki-Nikiforov laid awake. Though he cracked bleary eyes at the sunlight peaking through the bedroom window, Viktor was in no mood to rise yet. Retired life had certainly spoiled him.</p><p>He buried his nose in the downy pillow and sank deeper into Yuuri’s embrace. This morning was especially peaceful, with Yuuri sleeping soundlessly at Viktor’s back. In fact, if it weren’t for Yuuri’s steady heartbeat against Viktor’s back, Viktor may have checked on him to make sure he was breathing. He hoped that meant he was getting his rest.</p><p>Makkachin stirred at the foot of the bed, waiting to go out for the morning. She pushed her wet nose at Viktor’s ankle pointedly.</p><p>For most of his life, Viktor had dreaded <em>Viktor Nikiforov’s Retirement</em>.</p><p>For what a barren landscape of uncertainty it had seemed! But Fate had been kind to him, and now he wouldn’t trade <em>Viktor Katsuki-Nikiforov’s Retirement</em> for anything. He did not relish the plight of younger skaters who had been hitting the ice for hours already this time of the morning.</p><p>When Viktor extricated himself from Yuuri’s greedy limbs, he tutted and plucked the crooked glasses hanging off of his sleeping Yuuri’s face. He set the on the side table, Viktor found Yuuri blinking up at him, the morning light an intrusion on his perpetually morning-averted husband.</p><p>“The alarm go off?” Yuuri managed to whisper through the haze of sleep.</p><p>“Not yet, I’m just taking Makka out. Shhh.” Viktor gently grazed his fingertips over Yuuri’s sinking eyelids as if to close them. Viktor and Makkachin snuck quietly out of the bedroom, light on their feet, but eager to stick to their routine of morning walks and a hearty bowl of breakfast.</p><p>By the time Viktor returned home with Makkachin, Yuuri was in the kitchen making breakfast. There was a steaming hot cup of coffee waiting for him on the counter and a bowl of fresh breakfast for Makkachin.</p><p>“Mila invited us over for cocktails this evening.” Yuuri turned to face Viktor as he sipped on his coffee with his back to the sink.</p><p>Viktor looked up from the morning news on his phone from where he sat on his stool at the kitchen island. “Oh? And are we going?”</p><p>“I told her I’d have to check with you first.” Yuuri said nonchalantly.</p><p>Viktor shrugged. “Could be fun. Do you want to go?”</p><p>Yuuri tilted his head ambivalently. “Hmmm I was hoping I would have an answer by the time you asked.” Yuuri flipped eggs in the pan. “Sara and her brother are in town visiting.”</p><p>“Even better.” Viktor replied, scrolling through Twitter out of the corner of his eye. “You know I’m happy either way.”</p><p>“Are you?” Yuuri asked, sounding relieved but also a smidge guilty.</p><p>“Yes. If I was not, I would say so, my love.” Viktor smirked. Although Viktor loved spending time with their friends, he was also content to snuggle up on the sofa with Yuuri and Makkachin and a bottle of cabernet sauvignon all by themselves.</p><p>“But it sounds like it would be fun, and we haven’t seen Sara in a while. Plus, these are our friends.”</p><p>“Then let’s go.”</p><p>“You’re right. We should.”</p><p>Viktor took a sip of his coffee before prodding, “Is it the thought of a crowd that’s overwhelming?”</p><p>“Not exactly.”</p><p>“Is it something else then?”</p><p>Yuuri blushed guiltily. “It’s just been awhile. All of our friends, Sara and Michel.”</p><p>“Yuuri,” Viktor chided. “Other skaters still making you nervous? Even after you’ve won gold this many times? Surely you know by now—”</p><p>“I know you’re right. I can’t help it sometimes.” Yuuri sighed, depositing a hearty helping of eggs on a plate. “I wish they didn’t still make me nervous after all this time. This is a ‘me’ problem. Let’s go tonight.”</p><p>The sound of the guest bedroom door smacking the other wall interrupted their conversation.</p><p>Yuri Plisetsky shuffled in shortly after, looking every bit as grumpy as the slam of the door against the wall had indicated.</p><p>“Sounds like a plan.” Viktor replied to Yuuri, then turned to the teen taking a seat at the other end of the kitchen island. “Good morning, Yurio.”</p><p>“You two have plans tonight? Besides making googly eyes at each other?”</p><p>Yuuri rolled his eyes and set the plate of eggs and toast down in front of him, unable at all to take his venom seriously anymore. Especially with his blonde hair in a rat’s nest atop his head.</p><p>“Yes, but that is also on the agenda.” Yuuri said.</p><p>“A very high priority.” Viktor nodded.</p><p>“Mila’s having a get together tonight since Sara and Michel are in town.” Yuuri answered.</p><p>Yurio perked up. “Can I come?”</p><p>“Don’t you have practice in the morning?” Viktor quirked an eyebrow at Yurio.</p><p>“It’s my day off! I can leave early and crash here again and be at the rink on time.”</p><p>“He could take Makka out for her night walk…” Viktor mused.</p><p>“I don’t think your coach would be too happy with us for letting you come tonight.” Yuuri said, but not willing to outright refuse.</p><p>Yurio’s nostrils flared and he scoffed loudly. “That old bag of bones won’t even notice. I’m always at my peak performance.”</p><p>“I’m texting that to Yakov right this minute.” Viktor poked, just to see the flash of fear in Yurio’s eyes before they narrowed.</p><p>“Ouch!” Yuuri hissed under his breath from the stove.</p><p>“Yuuri?” Viktor asked, rising when Yuuri hunched over, pressing his fingers into his abdomen. “Are you okay?”</p><p>“That pan is hot, watch it.” Yurio said, sounding just the slightest bit sorry.</p><p>“I didn’t burn myself—ah!” Yuuri gasped as his breath caught in his chest. Before Viktor could reach him, Yuuri raised a hand and rested himself against the counter. “Just a cramp. Like a sharp pain right under my ribs.” Despite his nonchalant tone, Yuuri exhaled shallowly.</p><p>When Yuuri didn’t straighten immediately, Viktor rested hands on Yuuri’s shoulder and elbow, trying to guide him to sit.</p><p>“Is Yuuri dying?” Yurio piped up.</p><p>“What?” “No!” Yuuri and Viktor responded over each other.</p><p>Yurio raised his hands defensively, “I don’t know. People die! All the time for all sorts of reasons. Aneurysms, lightning strikes, heart attacks. I listened to a podcast the other day about a guy dropped dead in the middle of—”</p><p>“He’s <em>not</em> dying.” Viktor responded clippedly.</p><p>“We don’t know that.” </p><p>“I’m fine.” Yuuri assured, standing up more firmly. “See? All better.”</p><p>“For now.” Yurio raised his eyebrows, taking a sip of the coffee he stole from Viktor.</p><p>Viktor shook off Yurio’s flippancy and rested his hand on the small of Yuuri’s back. “You sure you’re feeling okay, honey? May you should call in sick, I can handle the youth lessons myself.”</p><p>“No, no it’s fine!<em> I’m</em> fine. Let’s get to the rink.” Yuuri sped through the rest of his routine, and picked up his duffle bag near the door. “Yurio, you coming to the rink?”</p><p>Yurio plopped down on the sofa with Makkachin, laptop already open and headphones on. “What a joke. I’ll be here. The wifi at gramps’ sucks.”</p><p>“Of course. You’re welcome any time, Yuri.” Yuuri called indulgently.</p><p>“He clearly doesn’t need reminding.” Viktor grumbled as they closed the door.</p><p>At the skating rink, Yuuri and Viktor were met by a scowling Yakov, “Where is Yurachka? Sleeping the day away?”</p><p>Viktor waved him off, “It’s his day off, Yakov. He’s allowed one day away from this place.”</p><p>Yakov mumbled something about laziness and turned his attention away from Viktor. He lingered on Yuuri’s haggard face. “Yuuri, you look like <em>you</em> should be sleeping the day away.”</p><p>Viktor rolled his eyes, “You’re getting meaner in your old age, Yakov. My Yuuri is as fresh as morning dew on a rose.”</p><p>Yuuri let out a massive yawn and took a sip of his coffee (his second of the day). “No, it’s true. I was up all night.” Viktor’s brow furrowed. Yuuri shrugged. “Couldn’t sleep.”</p><p>Viktor’s brow did not smooth out, “You couldn’t sleep?”</p><p>“It’s a good thing you’re no longer a competitor facing a long day of training.” Yakov chortled. He clapped Yuuri on the back and walked past them. “Tell Yuratchka he better get a good night’s sleep!”</p><p>Once Yakov was out of sight, Viktor handed Yuuri his own coffee. “You didn’t tell me you had trouble sleeping. I’m sorry.”</p><p>Yuuri took Viktor’s coffee greedily. “Don’t be sorry, you couldn’t have done anything. I didn’t want to bother you. And, you’re so cute when you’re sleeping, getting to watch was a treat.” Yuuri’s eyes glowed renewed by the caffeine hitting his bloodstream. He gave Viktor a wink and tapped his nose with the tip of his finger.</p><p>Viktor still looked uneasy as Yuuri finished both of their coffees with hardly a breath between the cups. Yuuri brushed his thumb up between Viktor’s creased eyebrows as if to rub the worry away</p><p>“I’m okay, I promise. Nothing coffee can’t cure. Now, I believe it’s time to go coach the rising stars of Russia.”</p>
<hr/><p>An hour later, Yuuri watched Viktor holding the hands of a pair five-year-old twins as they wobbled on their skates.</p><p>“You’re doing amazing! That’s it, Ivan! You’re doing so well.” Viktor cooed encouragingly when the younger boy’s lip started to wobble.</p><p>Yuuri was leading the rest of the group nearby in balancing exercises, gratefully in a position to watch his husband. He’d spent much of his life admiring Viktor from afar, but proximity and time didn’t dilute the pleasure he got from watching him in his element. If anything, the intimacy built from their years together enhanced the flavorful undertones only appreciated with time and care.</p><p>Their skating life was much mellower post-retirement, but that only meant they had the time to savor the wine of their marriage without the background noise of training, competition, and spotlight. The kids under their tutelage had only the faintest idea that world class superstars of the ice were teaching them the basics of how to stand on two blades. The Katsuki-Nikiforovs loved their students, they loved skating, and they loved each other. For now, their lives were in perfect harmony.</p><p>There was nothing more in the world Yuuri or Viktor could ask for.</p><p>After several hours of working with the youngest group, Viktor and Yuuri moved on to assistant coaching some of the older hopefuls. With their sharp eyes, the pair pricked and prodded the preteens, ordering them to adjust their arms, straighten their legs, etc.</p><p>Yuuri leaned against the side of the rink, “Alexei, your balance is way off. To land the salchow, bring your arms in—Ah!” He abruptly buckled over with eyes screwed shut.</p><p>“Coach?” The young boy wondered, coming to a stop several feet from the wall.</p><p>Viktor’s attention pulled away from their students in an instant. He skated to Yuuri and bent down to his level, firmly placing his hands on Yuuri’s shoulders to balance him. “Yuuri, are you okay?”</p><p>“It’s my stomach again.” Yuuri moaned, looking positively green.</p><p>Viktor put his hands on his cheeks, his worry from the morning renewed. “You feel warm. Do we need to go home?”</p><p>Yuuri looked woozy, but shook his head. “No, no. I think I’m going to be sick though.” He stepped off the ice quickly. “Stay with them, I’ll take a break.”</p><p>“Okay.” Viktor replied, watching Yuuri all but dash to the locker rooms. Concern settled in his stomach, but he nonetheless turned and ordered Alexei to run his routine again. He gave half-hearted orders to their skaters, and the kids soon took Viktor’s lead and delved back into practice.</p><p>Yuuri was on Viktor’s mind though. By the time he had given all the kids multiple drills to run, fifteen minutes had passed, and the worry was eating away at Viktor. If Yuuri was sick, he didn’t want him lying on the hard wooden benches in the locker room. As someone who had tried to take many naps on them in his life, he knew they were not comfortable.</p><p>“Yakov, can you give them some drills to run? I’ll be right back.” Viktor called to his former coach, already stepping off the ice and not waiting for a response. Yakov grumbled something, but regardless turned to the skaters and started barking at them in that oddly soothing gravelly drill sergeant’s voice.</p><p>Viktor approached the locker room door, listening for any sounds from inside. But all was quiet. He figured Yuuri must be lying down.</p><p>A pungent stench assaulted Viktor the second he pushed the door open. He wanted to recoil, but alarm quickly took over and pushed him forward. The muck squelched under Viktor's steps, and he immediately closed and locked the door behind him. Terror struck, Viktor took in the lockers, benches, floor all coated in vomit. Far too much for any one person.</p><p>Holy shit, how was this all from one person?</p><p>In a second, his gaze landed on Yuuri’s prone form. He was laid out on the floor curled in a loose fetal position. Yuuri’s usually warm brown eyes were half lidded and glassy.</p><p>“Yuuri, oh my god!” Viktor gasped and tore across the room. He sank to his knees, undeterred by the sick staining his clothes and coating his palms as they slapped on the floor. One hand went to Yuuri’s cheek, the other his shoulder and shook.</p><p>When Yuuri didn’t stir—or even blink—Viktor became frantic. Why was he so cold?</p><p>“Yuuri? Can you hear me, sweetheart?” One hand flew to Viktor’s pocket to his phone to call an ambulance while the other strayed down Yuuri’s cheek and rested on his neck, trying to stroke his skin and wake him up.</p><p>Viktor let his phone clatter into the muck when he realized: he didn’t feel anything under his fingers on Yuuri’s throat. Why couldn’t he feel Yuuri’s pulse?</p><p>Frantically, he reached one arm under Yuuri’s side on the linoleum and lifted. Viktor sat back, resting Yuuri’s limp torso on his chest, and pressed his fingers to Yuuri’s throat, absent of thrumming blood. He pressed his wet fingers again. Nothing.</p><p>“Yuuri? Yuuri say something.” He begged, murmuring the rest of some plea in his mother tongue.</p><p>Methodically, Viktor’s fingers flew to Yuuri’s wrist, searching for signs of heartbeat there too. It too was cold, silent.</p><p>“No! How? This isn't happening.” Viktor cried, the rest of his pleas falling out of his mouth like some geyser had erupted in his chest. The possibility of a cold, empty, Yuuri-less future quickly overtook the other futures he’d imagined. The beautiful futures that were so tangible moments before, dimmed under the blackness of this new unfathomable reality. He cradled Yuuri to him, his grip tightening like a boa constrictor. His hand kept fumbling for the fallen phone to call an ambulance, so someone could fix this. So he could find out what signs he had missed and how he could keep it from ever happening again. But someone needed to start Yuuri’s heart again before Viktor could begin to atone for the sin of his negligence.</p><p>Although his shaky fingers unlocked his phone and began to dial the emergency number, Viktor felt his world tilting off of its axis. </p><p>“Oh, my Yuuri…” He whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of his head.</p><p>Then, Yuuri shot up.</p><p>“Did Alexei land the salchow?” He gasped, disoriented.</p><p>“<em>Ty che, blyad?</em> What the fuck?” Viktor shrieked, banging his head against the locker behind him in surprise.</p><p>“Did I pass out or something?” Yuuri asked, still stunned.</p><p>Viktor dragged a vomit coated palm down the side of his face, clenching his eyes shut to control the jolt to his heart. He couldn’t decide if he wanted to cry or or scream or kiss his husband. The ghost of what he thought was Yuuri’s death still sat like a stake in his chest.</p><p>Yuuri frowned at Viktor, “Viktor? Are you okay?”</p><p>“Am <em>I </em>okay?”</p><p>“Yeah, you’re shaking, honey.” Yuuri reached out to touch Viktor’s arm, still wrapped around his torso tightly, when he glanced at the room. “I guess I was sicker than I thought.”</p><p>Vomit dripped from the ceiling onto Viktor’s forehead, stopped at his shell-shocked upturned eyebrows. “I would say so.”</p><p>“This is gonna be hell to explain to custodial staff. We should probably leave them a gift basket.” Yuuri muttered.</p><p>“Yep.”</p><p>“And <em>that </em>came out of me.” Yuuri pointed at a small clump of blood red tissue under the bench.</p><p>Viktor picked it up with two fingers, examining it in the light. “Huh. Do you think it’s an organ?”</p><p>“I don’t know, but <em>you</em> probably shouldn’t be touching it either way.” Yuuri reasoned, looking at his husband with wide eyes.</p><p>“Oh, you’re right. Don’t want to contaminate it in case they need to put it back in.” Viktor murmured in a daze.</p><p>Yuuri eyed Viktor warily, “Viktor, are you okay? You’ve got vomit on your favorite pants. And my favorite face.” Yuuri made a ‘yuck’ expression, and wiped some much off Viktor’s cheek.</p><p>Viktor clucked down at his clothes, “I can buy new pants.”</p><p>“I guess. I still feel bad.” Yuuri said sheepishly.</p><p>Viktor finally turned to him fully, a small smile on his lips, looking like he was cradling something precious to his chest, “Let’s get you to the hospital. Oh, and let’s get this on some ice.” He said, holding up the little ball.</p><p>Yuuri crinkled his nose. “We should change clothes first, right?”</p><p>“Yes.” Viktor replied, eyes darting around. He nodded to himself as he settled on the corner. “Don’t move, I’ll go check out the lost and found.”</p>
<hr/><p>Hours later, Viktor and Yuuri sat in the emergency room at a nearby hospital in two seats surrounded by a sea of empty seats. They weren’t alone in the ER, but the other patients gave them a wide berth, covering their noses. Yuuri tapped his foot anxiously and tried to shrink into his oversized borrowed hoodie emblazoned with what he was pretty sure was some russian expletive.</p><p>“We probably should have just thrown the clothes away.” Yuuri looked around sheepishly, trying to conspicuously hide the grocery bag holding their old clothes.</p><p>“Perhaps.” Viktor looked agitated, even in his borrowed kitty sweater that was just a few sizes too small. His knee bounced every time the nurse came from the back and called forth a new patient.</p><p>Yuuri sighed. “Changing clothes didn’t exactly help much with the smell.” He gingerly ran a paper towel he’d gotten from the bathroom down a strand of Viktor’s hair. The fact that Viktor didn’t even seem to notice the vomit in his hair worried Yuuri.</p><p>“Why don’t we go home? I’m feeling a lot better.”</p><p>Viktor’s gaze was trained on the door to the back, “I still want you to get checked out, honey.”</p><p>Yuuri groaned, “We’ve been waiting here forever. I just want to go home and take a shower. I feel like something crawled in my mouth and died.”</p><p>Viktor winced. “I’ll go see what the wait is like.”</p><p>He tried to convey as much urgency as he could to the nurse behind the desk while boasting a sweater with kitten in a princess tiara. “Excuse me, but how long do you think the wait will be? We’ve been here awhile.”</p><p>The nurse rolled her eyes up to him, not even taking a second look at his outfit or the smell, “The most life-threatening cases take priority, sir. Your husband threw up.”</p><p>“Yeah. A lot. Like…too much for a person.” Viktor pushed, lowering his voice on the last part. He was too on edge to even try to charm her with his million-dollar smile.</p><p>“Your husband <em>threw up</em>. That man over there has a broken arm and he hasn’t bothered me once.” She pointed to a man nursing an injured arm, clearly broken, but scrolling through his phone in the other hand.</p><p>“Have a good day.” Viktor sighed.</p><p>He gave Yuuri a resigned nod and Yuuri rose cheerfully to leave. Viktor swung the plastic bag of soiled clothes over his shoulder and put his arm around Yuuri’s shoulders as they left the hospital. When the bag squelched against Viktor’s back, Yuuri crinkled his nose and gently took it from him. Viktor seemed to barely notice that Yuuri took the bag, and certainly didn’t care when Yuuri tossed it in the garbage on their way out.</p><p>Viktor found he couldn’t stop touching his husband. The thought of having almost lost Yuuri scared Viktor enough to where he needed the contact to assure he was still here. Alive.</p><p>“Stay here while I hail a cab.” Viktor said, stopping outside a line of cabs waiting at the end of the street.</p><p>Yuuri turned to Viktor with a surprisingly serene smile despite looking like he attended an all-night rave that ended poorly, “A walk home would be nice, don't you think? It’s a beautiful day.” He tilted his face up at the sun. </p><p>Viktor nodded and took Yuuri’s hand and started the walk home. Passersby gave them side glances in their mismatched, ill-fitting lost and found gear. “I haven’t had this many people looking at me since before retirement.” Viktor mused.</p><p>Yuuri shrugged, shoulders relaxed and one in the pocket of his jean shorts, “You remember how it goes. You’ve got to own it.”</p><p>Viktor raised his eyebrows at that, but was glad to see Yuuri wasn’t worried about the staring. He seemed to genuinely be enjoying the nice weather, and only someone who knew him really well would be able to tell Yuuri even noticed the odd looks.</p><p>On their way, they passed by a butcher’s shop with a glass storefront, a line of fresh meat cuts visible from the street. Yuuri’s eyes roamed over them slowly, and he tilted his head back longingly, “You know what sounds amazing right now? Katsudon.”</p><p>Viktor hummed in agreement, “We should plan to make some tomorrow.”</p><p>Yuuri pursed his lips, his eyes dancing with possibilities. “Or maybe steak.”</p><p>“That sounds good too.” Viktor paused, realizing they were both talking about food with the smell of stale vomit in their noses. “But how about I make you some soup tonight? It'll be easier on your stomach.”</p><p>“Maybe. Whatever it is, it should be quick since we’re going to Mila’s tonight.”</p><p>Viktor stopped them walking as they came up to an intersection. He stared at Yuuri in disbelief, “We’re surely not going to Mila’s still?”</p><p>Yuuri returned the quizzical gaze. “Why not? I’m all good.”</p><p>Viktor’s brows only pursed further, “At the very least you need rest!”</p><p>“I’m actually not tired anymore. I guess the caffeine made it into my brain before I threw up all that coffee.” Yuuri moved them forward as the crossing signal changed.</p><p>Viktor tutted disapprovingly. “Yuuri, please let’s take it easy tonight? If only for me.”</p><p>Yuuri grinned and squeezed his hand. “You know I can’t say no to that.”</p><p>When they arrived back at the house, they were met with the familiar sounds of muffled grumbling from an older voice and an annoyed younger one.</p><p>“Yuratchka, you shouldn’t be eating potato chips.” Yakov harangued in the living room.</p><p>“It’s my day off, old man. I’ll be in top form tomorrow.” Yurio crunched loudly to punctuate his statement.</p><p>“You better be! I’ll have you doing extra drills, you can be sure of that.” Yakov grumbled.</p><p>“Meh.” Yurio shrugged and turned up the volume on the TV just as Viktor and Yuuri walked into the room. “Fine.”</p><p>“Hello Yakov.” Yuuri greeted him, and the old man turned to the entering couple.</p><p>“Good afternoon, Yuuri. I am sorry to hear you were not feeling well.” Yakov muttered, his demeanor becoming the polite one Yuuri knew. He only yelled at him if he was coaching him.</p><p>Yurio paused the TV and looking up mid-chip. “Ugh! You two smell disgusting! And what are you wearing?”</p><p>“I’m fine, Yakov. Thanks so much for coming by to check. We went to the hospital and they said I’m all good.” The lie sounded natural as it rolled off Yuuri’s tongue; Viktor didn’t give him away by outwardly reacting, but he did tag it to circle back to later. “Now if you don’t mind, I’m going to hop in the shower.”</p><p>“Not a problem. Take care.” Yakov said. He turned to Yurio and grabbed the bag of potato chips, reaching into the bag and taking out some for himself. “Go eat a vegetable.” Yurio groaned and crossed his arms over his chest. Yakov turned to Viktor, “Vitya, walk me out.”</p><p>It wasn’t a question.</p><p>Viktor opened the door for Yakov, not stepping outside with him. Yakov turned back to him, peeking over his shoulder to make sure Yuuri was not around.</p><p>“Did Yuuri throw up alone or did he invite half a dozen friends to join him?” Yakov waved the chip bag for emphasis.</p><p>Viktor cringed, not knowing how to respond since Yuuri’s lie. “Well Yakov, you are not a doctor and I am not a doctor, so I don’t think we can say what the appropriate amount of vomit is—”</p><p>“It was an insane amount of vomit.” Yakov nearly shouted, but remembered to keep his voice down. “I came over to take Yuri to his grandfather’s so he would be out of your hair. I was positive Yuuri would be in a coma by how much vomit there was. We had to close down the locker room for the day! The custodial staff will have my head!”</p><p>“We’re going to give them a gift basket.” Viktor replied, weakly.</p><p>“Will the gift basket have the Hope diamond in it? Because that is what it will take to make up for destroying the locker room.” Yakov looked away, as if distraught by the memory. “On the ceiling, Vitya!”</p><p>“It’s been a long morning for all of us, so if you don’t mind, I’m going to shut the door now Yakov.” Viktor replied.</p><p>“Hey, don’t do that to me you little shit.” Yakov said, still somehow munching on chips. He paused, looking more thoughtful. “You just take care of your husband. If he needs anything, let me know.”</p><p>Viktor nodded, more sympathetic. He knew Yakov had a permanent soft spot for Yuuri. “I will.” He decided to jab at him to make everything seem normal again. “And if <em>I</em> need anything?”</p><p>Yakov rolled his eyes and turned to walk down the porch, “Call the chief of police for all I care.” He grumbled as he stalked off.</p><p>Yurio was back to playing some video game by the time Viktor passed through to grab a glass of water for Yuuri. When he returned to their bedroom, Viktor found Yuuri, hair dripping with water, clean scent replacing the acidic bile scent. Pillowed on their king-sized bed, Yuuri palmed his robed chest contemplatively.</p><p>“Did the shower help?” Viktor asked, placing the water on the nightstand.</p><p>“Yeah, but, it’s weird.” He tilted his head quizzically. “I can’t feel my heartbeat.” He said this more like he would report finding a weird bruise or new mole.</p><p>“…What do you mean?” Viktor felt like he was reliving a nightmare he had just barely been able to banish in the daylight.</p><p>Yuuri shrugged, a hint of nervousness scrunching up his shoulders, “My heartbeat. I can’t feel it. It’s got to be there right?”</p><p>Viktor carefully crawled on top of Yuuri, bracketing his hips with his knees. Viktor rested his head against Yuuri’s chest after parting his robe, his ear on top of Yuuri’s left breast.</p><p>“Huh.” Yuuri’s ribcage was as silent as church. Viktor could detect no fluttering bird stirring within, which so often beat against its cage due to Yuuri’s chronic anxiety.</p><p>Yuuri carded his fingers through Viktor’s hair comfortingly, as Viktor curiously pressed his ear against his chest harder.</p><p>“I love your hair.” Yuuri said softly, now moving both hands to stroke his silken locks.</p><p>“Thank you, sweetheart.” Viktor replied absently, laying his body more firmly on top of Yuuri’s, every ounce of attention focused on finding Yuuri’s heartbeat.</p><p>Viktor decided Yuuri’s heartbeat must be too slow for him to detect. He found himself regretting that they left the hospital before being seen.</p><p>Viktor’s attention was drawn away from Yuuri’s chest when Yuuri placed an affectionate kiss on top of his head, on Viktor’s "not-bald-but-thinning" spot (of which he was especially sensitive). When Viktor tilted his head up, Yuuri’s smile told him that the kiss’ placement had been intentional. Yuuri’s hands glided down from atop Viktor’s hair and came to rest on either side of his face.</p><p>Yuuri’s thumbs grazed Viktor’s cheekbones in fascination, as if discovering them anew.</p><p>Viktor chuckled lightly, unable to keep from melting under Yuuri’s gaze, as hot and nurturing as that of the sun.</p><p>“Do I have something on my face? Have you noticed the crow’s feet too?” Viktor groaned, not nearly as vexed as he had been when he first made the discovery in the light of their bathroom one morning.</p><p>Yuuri snorted in the back of his throat, “You’re just gorgeous.” He tilted his head forward as he said it, maintaining eye contact to emphasize the point. As he tilted forward, he placed two feather-light kisses on the outer corners of Viktor’s eyes where his inevitable crow’s feet would be in a few short years.</p><p>Viktor’s eyelids fluttered closed, sighing. “You never cease to surprise me, my Yuuri.”</p><p>Yuuri grazed his lips down Viktor’s cheek and landed on his top lip. He placed a soft kiss there, moved down and placed a kiss on his lower lip, taking it between his own. Yuuri’s breath was fresh and minty, no indication of what he’d gone through earlier in the day. As soon as Yuuri swept his tongue over Viktor’s lower lip, he seemed to coil. Not with nervousness, but with electricity.</p><p>He pulled away an inch, running his nose up the side of Viktor’s, still holding his face between his cool palms. “I love you, Vitya.” He mumbled, moving to kiss along his sharp jaw.</p><p>Viktor blushed in surprise, but not at all protesting.</p><p>“I love you, too.” He said, head swimming in Yuuri’s sweet affections. He wondered, though, how Yuuri’s skin still felt so cold.</p><p>Suddenly, Yuuri lightly pushed on Viktor’s shoulder, rolling him over onto his back. Yuuri maintained their closeness, moving on top of Viktor. Yuuri’s lips immediately sought Viktor’s neck, made more open by their changed position.</p><p>Yuuri kissed down the line of Viktor’s throat, not sucking, but lightly running the tip of his tongue along Viktor’s carotid artery. He placed a closed mouth on his jugular, meeting the neckline of Viktor’s borrowed sweater.</p><p>Viktor groaned annoyed at the obstruction, then nearly shot up in embarrassment, “Oh Yuuri, I haven’t had a shower—I must be repulsive!”</p><p>Yuuri actually snorted, “Don’t be ridiculous, you could never repulse me.” His hands ran down Viktor’s side. “This sweater though…”</p><p>“I’m going to take shower, and then you’ll never have to see this hideous sweater again.” He sat up, and Yuuri gave him the space to swing his legs over the side of the bed. Yuuri watched him raptly as his tore the sweater over his head.</p><p>When Viktor looked back at Yuuri, he found his brown eyes heated with a deep fire; his eyes hooded and hungry.</p><p>Viktor practically leapt back onto the bed and ran his fingers down Yuuri’s throat and down to his chest.</p><p>“Change your mind?” Yuuri asked lasciviously, ready to lie back on the comforter.</p><p>Viktor pressed his fingers urgently along Yuuri’s skin, moving again from his chest to his throat.</p><p>“Still nothing. Huh.” Viktor whispered.</p><p>“What was that?”</p><p>Viktor’s eyes clouded. “You make my heart race, my love.”</p><p> “I hope s—”</p><p>“But yours is still quiet. Just like at the rink.” Viktor muttered to himself not in a self-deprecating manner, but in a way a physicist would react if all of a sudden gravity stopped working.</p><p>“Wait, really?” Yuuri balked, sitting back up and putting his own hand on his chest. “You mean…when you found me, you couldn’t feel my heartbeat?”</p><p>Viktor couldn’t answer verbally. He just shook his head, the memory too painful to vocalize.</p><p>“What does that mean?” Yuuri asked, warily. His worry looked entirely directed at Viktor and not himself, though. As the gears turned in his head, Yuuri’s eyes softened in a look strikingly close to pity. “Oh, Viktor… that must have been—”  </p><p>“—I’m going to run to the drug store and get a stethoscope.” Viktor yanked on a fresh polo shirt and pants, as he said this.</p><p>“Do they sell those?”</p><p>“We’ll have to see.” Viktor pulled on shoes and shut the lights off. “Please try to rest while I’m gone.”</p><p>“Okay.” Yuuri relented when Viktor placed a kiss on his forehead, lingering there for a few seconds longer than he normally would. “Are <em>you</em> feeling okay?”</p><p>Viktor pulled away, looking far more terrified than Yuuri felt. And it was <em>his</em> heart they couldn’t hear. Viktor didn’t look afraid <em>of</em> Yuuri though, he looked afraid that if he looked away he would vanish.</p><p>Viktor’s smile was tight, “I’ll be fine.”</p><p>Yuuri worried. It wasn’t the answer he was hoping for and Viktor looked manic. “Take Yurio.” Maybe the teen, who was so receptive to Viktor’s moods, could put him at ease somehow.</p><p>To his surprise, Viktor didn’t even think about it before nodding. “Okay. Be back soon.” He shut the door with a quiet click.</p><p>Yurio, clutching a bag of chips to replace the one Yakov had stolen, found Viktor in the medical aisle at the drug store. He stared pensively at the stethoscopes.</p><p>“What’s the difference between single headed and dual headed?” Viktor asked, not looking at Yurio when he asked.</p><p>“Well, dual would be two. Numbskull.”</p><p>Viktor glanced at him for the sarcasm, but couldn’t conjure annoyance. “True.”</p><p>“Why do you need a stethoscope?”</p><p>“Do they sell gift baskets here?”</p><p>“You’re losing it, old man.” Yurio shook his head, plucking the single headed stethoscope from the rack and poured the contents of his arms into Viktor’s hand basket. “You’re paying for all of these.”</p><p>Viktor nodded without even glancing down into the basket.</p><p>Yurio stopped midturn. “Did you and Yuuri get into a fight or something?”</p><p>At the mention of Yuuri’s name, Viktor’s back stiffened; but he at least looked at him. “No! Everything is fine? Yes, everything is fine and normal—great actually thanks for asking.”</p><p>“What did you do?”</p><p>“Nothing! Do they have sour cream &amp; onion chips here?”</p><p>Yurio squinted. “You only eat sour cream and onion chips when you’re stressed. You’re retired! How stressed can you possibly be?”</p><p>Viktor exhaled hard through his nose. “It happens when you get older. You get stressed out more and your spine turns into a pile of loosely stacked pebbles. You get upset when your favorite grocery store rearranges their layout. You’ll learn.” Viktor swept past Yurio toward the exit.</p><p>A mildly bored looking cashier gave them a side eye as Viktor walked straight through exit with his basket of items. “Sir, you have to pay for those.”</p><p>Yurio watched intently as Viktor reacted with almost placid forgetfulness—which wasn’t unexpected. The man was often forgetting things. But he didn’t even look upset at his own rudeness. Viktor murmured an apology and tossed a ridiculously large bill on the counter without so much as a passing glance.</p><p>Yurio stepped up to the counter. The cashier glanced from Viktor, who was now well on his way to the intersection holding a drug store basket. “Weirdo.”</p><p>“Yeah. I’ll take the change.” Yurio nodded and stuffed a wad of cash into his pocket and jogged after Viktor.</p><p>In the privacy of their room, Viktor pressed a stethoscope to Yuuri’s chest. Despite the sound of Yurio’s video game in the living room, Viktor was positive he should have been able to hear the sound of his favorite heartbeat in the world with a tool specifically designed to find it.</p><p>“Well?”</p><p>Viktor pulled back, “I don’t hear anything.”</p><p>“I know, weird right?” Yuuri replied. “Here, check out my pulse.”</p><p>Viktor pressed his fingers to the underside of Yuuri’s outheld wrist. “Nothing.”</p><p>Yuuri stared in quiet contemplation at his wrist, which Viktor was beginning to hold more and more tightly. Despite the white knuckled intensity with which Viktor held Yuuri's wrist, it oddly did not hurt.</p><p>“Hey, do you have—oh, ew!” Yurio recoiled when he entered the room and saw Yuuri’s open button down and Viktor's position over him with a stethoscope dangling from his neck. “Next time you’re going to do this kind of stuff, lock the door! I don’t need to see your bizarre sex life.”</p><p>“This isn’t a sex thing.” Yuuri said at the same time Viktor said, “Sorry.”</p><p>Their shared ‘yikes’ glance kept Yuri in the doorway. He crossed his arms and looked every ounce the stubborn teen who’d shown up in Hasetsu years ago with a determined chip on his shoulder. “What is going on with you two? And don’t say <em>nothing</em>.”</p><p>“I think I’m sick or something—here, come listen.” Yuuri beckoned, taking the stethoscope from Viktor and holding it out for Yurio.</p><p>At the earnestness in Yuuri’s voice, Yurio moved quickly to kneel beside Viktor and press the stethoscope to Yuuri’s chest. He pressed it over Yuuri’s heart. Then moved it slightly to the left. Then to the right. He pressed the metal harder into Yuuri’s skin. When he pulled back he glanced between Yuuri and Viktor with confusion then something close to fear.</p><p>“Jesus.” Yurio then thrust the stethoscope onto Viktor’s chest. His eyebrows furrowed deeper. He moved the metal back to Yuuri’s chest. Back to Viktor’s. Back to Yuuri’s. Turned it to his own chest. Then to Yuuri’s again. “What the shit is this?”</p><p>“I knew we should have gone with the dual headed.” Viktor muttered.</p><p>“Wait so, you don’t have a heartbeat.” Yuuri asked.</p><p>Yuuri shook his head. “I guess not.”</p><p>“So that means…uh, technically—”</p><p>“Yeah, I should be dead. Or dead-adjacent?”</p><p>“No you’re not! You’re walking and talking same as always, you're clearly alive.” Viktor interjected feverishly.</p><p>“Does it hurt?” Yurio asked.</p><p>Yuuri seemed to consider this seriously for a moment. “No. But it does get weirder.” Yuuri rose and picked up a letter opener from on top of their chest of drawers and pressed the sharpened point to his skin.</p><p>“Oh my god.” Viktor looked like he was going to throw up.</p><p>“I’m going to show you both something, but you need to remember—I feel fine. It doesn’t hurt. Don’t freak out.”</p><p>Yurio and Viktor watched with rapt attention. Yuuri pressed the sharp point of the letter opener to his palm, and sliced the skin open.</p><p>The open wound was dry. At first. The slice almost looked like wax.</p><p>“Still, don’t freak out! Stay with me.” Yuuri squeezed the wound, and out came a viscous, black, tar-like substance. “Look! No blood either.”</p><p>Yuuri turned to grab a washcloth from the stack of recently cleaned laundry and wiped his hand. “Like I said, it doesn’t hurt, but it’s freaky right—holy shit!”</p><p>Yuuri turned back to find both Viktor and Yurio passed out cold on the floor.</p>
<hr/><p>“Do you need to go lay down for a little bit, honey? You hit your head pretty hard.” Yuuri asked minutes later, rubbing his healed palms together after setting down glasses of orange juice in front of his shell-shocked family.</p><p>“No—” “—I’m fine.”</p><p>Yuuri let out a disarmed chuckle. Yurio gave no indication he’d even realized he had replied. Yuuri tried to exchange a shocked and touched glance with Viktor. But<em> he </em>also looked like his mind was lightyears away.</p><p>Viktor kept swallowing, not really tasting the orange juice. He knew his body needed the sugar—he, after all, still had bodily functions commonly understood, like blood to house blood sugar.</p><p>Yuuri’s attention seemed to hone in on Viktor's throat as he took one last gulp. It reminded him of the look Yuuri used to bear when waiting for the scores on his performances to be announced.</p><p>“We still have that turkey meat right?” Yuuri asked, already pawing for the refrigerator doorhandle.</p><p>Before Viktor could answer, Yuuri sliced open the package of ground turkey with his nail, plunged his fingers into the meat and brought a chunk to his mouth. He chewed thoughtfully, and Viktor thought it was bizarre how much he seemed to be enjoying it raw—he usually didn’t chew that loudly on anything except pork katsudon.</p><p>Yurio took an unsteady seat at the sight.</p><p>“Yurio, have you eaten anything besides chips today? Here’s let me get you some carrots.” Yuuri tsked loudly, cheek full of raw meat. “Or maybe some protein?”</p><p>“<em>No</em>.” Yurio whispered, his neck stiff and eyes frozen on Yuuri’s hands. “No meat.”</p><p>Yuuri stuck his finger in his mouth and sucked off some chunks of ground turkey from under his fingernails. “Okay.” He set a plate of carrots and celery down on the counter before pawing for another chunk of meat and gulping it down hungrily.</p><p>“You know, I can cook that for you, sweetheart.” Viktor volunteered. So much for soup.</p><p>Yuuri shrugged, “I’m fine. Is this a different kind of turkey than usual? It’s delicious.”</p><p>“I wouldn’t want you to get sick again.”</p><p>Yuuri gave a half-hearted shrug in response, “I don’t feel sick. You worry too much.”</p><p>“Worry too <em>much</em>?” Yurio shouted, rising his feet. Viktor nodded in agreement. “Your blood looks like something a smoker hacked up! What did the doctor say?”</p><p>“I didn’t actually see a doctor. The line was way too long at the ER.” Yuuri replied, wiping the turkey juice on a hand towel.</p><p>“What!” Yurio swung to Viktor. “Where were you in all this?”</p><p>Viktor rebuffed defensively, “It was <em>my</em> idea to go to the hospital.”</p><p>“And you just left?”</p><p>Viktor squared his shoulders lightly, “The wait <em>was</em> pretty long—”</p><p>Yurio’s plate of carrots hit the floor when he swept his arms asunder, “Yuuri is <em>dead</em> and the line at the hospital was too long?”</p><p>“<em>Stop</em> saying that.”</p><p>Yuuri tsked. “You didn’t even eat your carrots, Yurio. I don’t want you fainting again.”</p><p>“Or what, you’ll take me to the hospital?”</p><p>“Maybe, yeah.” Yuuri replied earnestly.</p><p>Yurio’s hands yanked at his bangs, but Viktor intervened before the argument could escalate. “Let’s <em>all</em> go back to the hospital! Just to be safe.”</p><p>“No!” Yuuri replied gently, setting down the meat. He looked like he was finally gearing up to something he’d been pondering for a while. “Look I know things are very wrong, but I feel fine. Good even! I have all this energy and focus. I’m apparently not picky about my meat being medium well anymore, which is going to save us so much time on food prep, babe.” Yuuri pointed to Viktor, who gave no visible response.</p><p>At his family’s blank stares, Yuuri sighed and shook his head. “I don’t want to go to a hospital where they’re going to put me in a tube or underground facility or something.”</p><p>“They might be able to help you.” Viktor implored.</p><p>“…Or, they might never let me come home again.” Yuuri leaned toward Viktor, almost as if he thought if he said it softly enough, Yurio would be shielded from its implications.</p><p>Viktor’s shoulders melted just a hint, and his fingers found Yuuri’s cold ones, interlacing them.</p><p>“Ok. No hospital." Viktor whispered. Yurio nodded. "But we should find out as much about your condition as we can. This seems exactly like the type of thing the internet will have a lot of misinformation about.”</p><p>“I know who can help.” Said Yurio, phone already in hand. “Otabek will know just what to do.”</p><p>“We really should keep this as quiet as possible.” Viktor reached out to swipe the phone from Yurio’s hands if he needed to.</p><p>Yuuri stopped him, “It can’t hurt to get a second opinion. Maybe Otabek knows something we don’t.” Yuuri circled the counter and placed his palms on Viktor’s upper arms, reassuringly. Viktor nodded hesitantly, unconvinced. “How do you suppose can Otabek help?" Yuuri asked.</p><p>“He was talking about some zombie movie he watched last week.” Yurio replied without looking up from his phone.</p><p>“That’s not a reason!” Viktor practically shrieked, pulling Yuuri in closer unconsciously. “That’s not a reason! No, absolutely under no circumstances will you—”</p><p>“He already replied. He can FaceTime soon.” Yurio said.</p><p>“Vitya…” Yuuri placed a calming hand on his chest. Viktor didn’t seem to notice he was pulling Yuuri closer as he spoke.</p><p>“It’s too dangerous.” Viktor protested. “It’s <em>not</em> happening.”</p>
<hr/><p>“What his pulse?”</p><p>“Zero over zero.”</p><p>“No heartbeat?”</p><p>“Nope.”</p><p>“It sounds to me like he is dead.” Otabek’s tone nor his expression gave away much dismay through phone screen.</p><p>“Yeah, that’s what I said.” Yurio responded.</p><p>“Do you have any other symptoms besides being dead, Yuuri?” Otabek asked, and Yurio tilted the phone to face Yuuri again. Viktor and Yuuri sat on the sofa, limbs intertwined, with Viktor’s body slightly caging Yuuri’s.</p><p>“Hmmm. I feel wired, but not in a bad way, like in a focused way. My blood is kind of dry now, if that’s important?” Yuuri replied.</p><p>“It might be. May I see?” Otabek said through the phone.</p><p>“Sure.” Yuuri picked up a pair of scissors from the coffee table and Viktor squeezes his eyes shut and muttered a soft ‘oh god.’</p><p>Yuuri punctured the skin right at the base of his thumb and cut down toward his elbow, creating a thin line that barely appeared a shade different from his skin. He squeezed the skin and let a little of the viscous black goo seep through.</p><p>“Can you see well enough, Otabek?” Yuuri asked, rising from his seat to bring his arm closer to the phone. Otabek squinted in scrutiny, but otherwise looked like a scientist studying a specimen.</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>Yuuri squeezed out more clumps of not-blood, which fell onto the coffee table.</p><p>“I’ve got it.” Viktor said, rising from the couch when Yuuri squeaked out a surprised ‘oops.’</p><p>“That’s not a great sign. What’s your eating been like?”</p><p>“I threw up yesterday, and an organ came out of me. Or, at least we think it’s an organ, right babe?” Yuuri asked, turning to Viktor as he returned with a wet cloth and began wiping down the coffee table.</p><p>“I’m not positive what else it could be, dear.” Viktor said, prideful at his lack of wincing at the black goo covering the napkin. No part of Yuuri could ever disgust him, he had worked very hard at keeping the coffee table stain free. All those years of insisting on a coaster for every cup, bowl, bottle, thrown into the wind.</p><p>“But besides that, my cravings have been a little weird, but my appetite is good: ravenous even. But that’s probably because of all the fluids I lost when I got sick, right?”</p><p>“That depends. Have you eaten anyone?” Otabek hummed at the screen.</p><p>“Any<em>one</em>?” Yuuri repeated.</p><p>“Yeah, like have you eaten a person?” Otabek clarified, undeterred.</p><p>“Of course not!” Yuuri balked. “I just meant I ate a lot of turkey earlier.”</p><p>“The whole package. Uncooked.” Yurio interjected, shoving his face on within the camera’s view. “With his fingers! It was so gross.”</p><p>Viktor returned sans wet cloth and began wrapping Yuuri’s wrist in gauze wrap (though it didn’t seem to need it as it was already healing). He shot Yurio a frigid glance.</p><p>“You can park the judgement, Yurio. I’ve seen you eating cereal from the box with your grubby hands then put it back in the pantry.” Viktor replied, finishing up the wrapping on Yuuri’s arm. Yuuri smiled gratefully and kissed him quickly in thanks.</p><p>“Well that’s good. Have you killed anyone?” Otabek replied, writing notes in a notebook.</p><p>“No.”</p><p>“Maimed anyone?”</p><p>“<em>No</em>.”</p><p>“Do you feel bloodlust?” Otabek paused thoughtfully. “Or, perhaps brainlust?”</p><p>Yurio and Viktor looked at Yuuri for his answer. Yuuri’s eyes widened in surprise at their combined uncertainty and his eyebrows knit together.</p><p>“<em>No</em>, I don’t have bloodlust or brainlust or whatever.”</p><p>“Thank you, Yuuri. You’re doing great.” Otabek murmured, seemingly to be jotting down more notes.</p><p>“So what do you think, Ota?” Yurio asked.</p><p>“Well, he appears to be dead but also not dead.”</p><p>“I’m sorry, Otabek—hi, it’s Viktor. What are your qualifications, exactly?”</p><p>“He watches a lot of horror movies.” Yurio shot back.</p><p>“I prefer the term ‘fright inducing cinema expert,’ but layman’s terms sure, I watch a lot of horror movies.” Otabek took the time to look up for this.</p><p>“So, what does this mean?” Yuuri asked.</p><p>“For all intents and purposes—and I mean no offense: you’re a zombie, Yuuri.”</p><p>“What the fuck?” Viktor seethed quickly, jerking in his surprise.</p><p>“Don’t be rude.” Yurio shot back.</p><p>“You’re right. Otabek, I apologize for raising my voice.” Viktor reigned himself in. “How can you be sure that my Yuuri is…” his hands gesticulated in place of answering, as his tongue suddenly went heavy in his mouth.</p><p>“I’m no doctor, but being undead meets the general criteria for being a zombie.” Otabek replied.</p><p>“So, what do we do?” Viktor asked, arm wrapping around Yuuri’s shoulders again and pulling him close.</p><p>Otabek thumped his pen against his chin thoughtfully as he stared at the ceiling off screen. “I would recommend always keeping him fed. And if shows signs of uncontrolled aggression you might have to, um,” he cleared his throat, looking uncomfortable for the first time. “<em>you know</em>.”</p><p>“Know what?” Viktor replied. Yurio and Yuuri cringed while exchanging a look.</p><p>Otabek made a cutting move his with hand in front of his throat.</p><p>“You think we should <em>kill him</em>?” Yurio replied in dismay.</p><p>“Only if he starts attacking others.” Otabek quickly interjected, trying to soothe Viktor’s wild looking gaze which indicated he may fall apart at even the slightest provocation. He turned away from the camera before continuing. “Though, I should clarify that all the literature says that the only way to truly kill a zombie is to crush the brain. Perhaps keep a bat on hand.”</p><p>The three of them exchanged glances.</p><p>“…We’re just figure skaters.” Viktor whispered in disbelief.</p><p>“<em>Retired figure </em>skaters.” Yurio said without managing to muster up the proper venom.</p><p>“Thank you for your help, Otabek.” Yuuri stepped in, taking control of Yurio’s phone since the other boys seemed frozen.</p><p>Otabek nodded curtly, “Sure. I’ll do some more research, but I have a competition coming up. It may have to take a back seat for a while.”</p><p>Yuuri waved his hand dismissively, “I totally understand. How’s your free skate coming along? Have you made any progress?”</p><p>“It’s a hit or miss but I’ll get it down before the competition.”</p><p>“I have no doubt at all! I’m sure you don’t need help, but if anytime you would like some tips please don’t hesitate to reach out."</p><p>“Thank you, Yuuri. If you develop any more symptoms from being a zombie, send me a text." Otabek nodded curtly. “Keep me updated, Yuri.” He addressed the shorter boy before signing off.</p><p>“Retired!” Yuuri and Yurio shifted to look at Viktor at his exclamation. Viktor moved with renewed vigor, his hands moving with the grace of his years of flawless dance. “The word Otabek used is so negative. Yuuri’s not a, uh—”</p><p>“...zombie.” Yurio finished for him.</p><p>“Yes, that. Yuuri’s simply moved on to a new phase of his life—<em>don’t</em>, I heard it when I said it.” Viktor pointed at Yurio when he opened his mouth to make a comment. “He’s in a different form of retirement! That’s all.”</p><p>Yuuri smiled supportively and mirrored Viktor’s invigorated posture. “Great point, babe! I’m just <em>retired</em>.”</p><p>“From life.” Yurio added.</p><p>Yuuri’s smiled tightened but stayed in place. “Sure. Retired from being picky about how well done my meat is.”</p><p>“Retired from panic attacks! Your heart can’t race if it doesn’t have a beat.” Yurio offered.</p><p>“Retired from…I can’t think of anything else but the point is retirement is great! Right?” Viktor responded.</p><p>“Right.”</p><p>“Uh-huh.”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>They fell into a tense silence fueled by equally uneasy positivity.</p>
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